


Waking the Moon

by edibleflowers



Series: Werewolves of Lucis [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (not in this part though), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, OT4, Self-Lubrication, Threesome - M/M/M, Werewolves, a/b/o dynamics, pre-ffxv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: "You're rather fond of this young man already, aren't you?" Regis's tone avoids being threatening, somehow manages gentle curiosity instead.Noctis shrugs. "I. I guess? He, uh. He just. He's likeable?"Regis gives a brief, enigmatic nod. "I see. Noctis, I ask you this as an alpha: have you scented him?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ARGH guys so jet me just say that this was called "noctispromptoabowtf.txt" in my WiP folder for a really long time. I have never written A/B/O type stuff before and wasn't even interested in it until recently (blame Dira Sudis, pretty much), and I felt like trying my take on it with the chocobros. Many A/B/O elements were inspired by [Dessa Lux](http://dessa-lux.tumblr.com/books)'s incredible books. I highly recommend reading them if you enjoyed this at all.
> 
> This is tagged for underage because there are implications of underage sex, but none is actually referenced or described in the fic.
> 
> Title hastily stolen from Elizabeth Hand's novel, _Waking the Moon_.

Noctis Lucis Caelum meets Prompto Argentum for the first time, properly, in their freshman year of high school. He (vaguely) remembers the boy from grade school, a lonely child on the chubby side who ate alone at lunch and took his camera everywhere with him. In the intervening years, Prompto has lost weight, gained inches, and become more confident; he's gangly now, skinny and smiling, and Noctis likes him at once.

He can't quite put his finger on why, though, not for several days. They have classes together and make sure they sit side by side; they eat lunch at the same table (Noctis frequently sharing the food prepared for him by his advisor-slash-tutor-slash-chamberlain-to-be, Ignis Scientia); they text and trade off playing video games on Noct's phone during their free period.

During the week, Noctis stays at his new apartment in a neighborhood close to the school. Living on his own is exciting at first, especially with Ignis coming by to cook and bring him reports from the Citadel. His father has already informed him he's expected for dinner every Sunday, though -- which, considering he's paying for Noct's apartment, isn't too much to ask.

So, the Sunday after he's completed his first week of high school, Noctis gets into the car and lets Ignis drive him over to the Citadel, where his father, the King of Lucis, is waiting for him. Well, probably not actively waiting, Noctis hopes. Kings have a million things to do, which is one reason Noctis isn't looking forward to taking on the role himself. 

Naturally, his father's standing at the front steps, waiting for him, when Ignis pulls the car up to the Citadel. Noctis groans and falls over on the back seat. Why do dads have to be _so_ effing _embarrassing_.

Halfway through the meal -- thankfully, in his father's private chambers, so the table is basically normal sized and they don't have to stand on manners -- Regis sits back in his chair and tilts his head. Noctis, in the middle of recounting a story about how Prompto tried to climb out the window during their history class (totally just to make people laugh, not seriously trying to escape, while the teacher had stepped out of the room for a minute), blinks at him.

"What? Prompto's not a bad influence, I swear, he's just fun to be around."

"You're rather fond of this young man already, aren't you?" Regis's tone avoids being threatening, somehow manages gentle curiosity instead.

Noctis shrugs. "I. I guess? He, uh. He just. He's likeable?"

Regis gives a brief, enigmatic nod. "I see. Noctis, I ask you this as an alpha: have you scented him?"

"Uh." Noctis feels his stomach drop. They don't talk about werewolf stuff much, not since Noctis was young and Regis had first told him about almost everything: their inheritance from the line of Lucis, the basic ranks, the politics of the various clans. "Kinda?" he hedges.

"It's not often you've made a friend outside the Citadel," his father says, his voice gentle. "Rarer still that you get as close to them as you clearly have to this Prompto in such a short amount of time. I can only think of a couple of others to whom you're so attached."

"Gladio and Ignis," Noctis murmurs. Gladio Amicitia, who's been his trainer since Noctis recovered from his injuries as a child and will one day be his official Shield, and Ignis -- whom Noctis has known practically from birth, it seems like. Like him, they're also wolves. Gladio taught Noctis to fight in wolf form as well as human, and a year or so ago tried to explain some of the birds-and-bees stuff too. Noctis had been grossed out by it then. These days, he kind of wishes he could get the nerve up to ask again.

"This is why I want you to be sure of Prompto. As you grow older, Noctis," and Regis grows more stern now, "you will form a pack of your own. This is your calling as an alpha, and it is your responsibility to care for and protect your pack. You know that who you choose can make the difference--"

"Between life and death, I know," Noctis says, trying not to sound bored. Then he blinks and looks at his father again. "You think Prompto might be a wolf too."

Somehow, Regis stays patient-voiced. "Yes, that is what I think. The attraction you feel as a friend could well grow into more in time."

"I thought that only happened with an omega," Noctis says. He stares at his plate, shakes his head. "Prompto can't be. He's human as they come."

"If you say so," Regis says, in that indulgent way that tells Noctis his father still thinks he knows better than him. He doesn't know Prompto at all. How can he know?

* * *

He decides to prove Regis wrong the next day at school. Prompto comes flying in to homeroom, two seconds shy of being late, and collapses in his desk next to Noctis. "Made it!" he crows, as the teacher gives them a stern look.

Noctis laughs obediently, leaning in to give Prompto's shoulder a shove. "Forgot to set your alarm again?" he teases; while Prompto makes a face, Noctis discreetly scents him. Prompto smells warm and sweaty from his race against the school bell. There are underlying notes of the soap from his morning shower, something musky -- _oh_ , Noctis knows that smell from his own nighttime fumblings -- and something else. Something sweet. He pulls back before it starts to look weird, but the wolf in him is turning over that scent, savoring it. Noctis can almost taste the sweetness on his tongue.

He turns his attention to the teacher and the morning announcements, forcing himself to appear normal. _How could he not know?_ Noctis knows there are such things as latent werewolves, those born to weres who still had to be bitten to fully realize their wolf side. He's fuzzy on those details, however, and wishes suddenly he'd paid more attention to Ignis during any of his discussions on werewolf breeding and pack politics.

Well, that's easily fixed, at least.

* * *

"Ignis," he says as soon as he gets in the car to go home. "I need to ask you about wolf stuff."

Ignis glances over at Noctis, one eyebrow raised. Noctis's behavior is new: he's not slouching into the back seat, phone already out and mind elsewhere; instead, he's in the passenger seat, turned toward Ignis even as he tugs his seatbelt on. 

"'Wolf stuff'?" Ignis asks, dry-voiced. "This new interest is unexpected, to say the least. And can you be a little more specific? There are only approximately a thousand years of history I've been trying to bring you up to speed on."

Noctis has the grace to look ashamed, at least. "I know," he says. "But I really do want to know. There's--" He pauses, but only for a moment; Ignis has always been his confidant, never betrayed his trust. "There's a guy in my year, I think he might be a wolf too. He smells like one, but he doesn't act like it. You know? I'm really--I guess I just want to make sure before I say something stupid or get found out."

"Ah." Ignis nods; at the lofty age of seventeen, he isn't necessarily much better versed in the day-to-day behavior of a pack, still-unattached beta that he is, but he understands well that delicacy is required in such matters. Especially if Noctis, an alpha, is scenting his first omega. "We can do some research into his family, perhaps. Genealogy will show--"

"He's adopted," Noctis interrupts, then gives Ignis a look that's almost shy. "He told me."

"Well, that's out, then. But there are ways to determine that, aside from family history. Is it that crucial to know right now?"

"I guess not right this second," Noctis admits, and subsides in his seat. "But he smells like. Like something different. And Dad kind of made it sound like I should know."

"If we can find out, then we will," Ignis says, soothing. "Until then, you're certainly not forbidden from spending time with him. I believe your father will be glad you're finally making friends outside the Citadel."

At the mention of Regis, Noctis exhales loudly. Ignis is glad to see some of Noctis's normal mannerisms back in place.

* * *

Three years go by. Ignis does subtle research into Prompto's background. As Noctis had said, the boy was adopted at a very early age; Lucis seals adoption records as a matter of course, but inquiries made from the Citadel can generally bypass such protections. Strangely, Prompto's birth records show no parents, only that he was brought to Lucis from elsewhere with papers showing proof of birth, a tattoo on his wrist, and nothing else. The tattoo (if that's what it is) catches Ignis's interest; there's a picture, scanned from a grainy photograph, and he latches onto it as his next lead.

It's a dead end for a long time. No one in Lucis marks children at birth, which means Prompto was brought from somewhere else. He can't find records of any such markings from Tenebrae or Accordo, which leaves only one option -- one Ignis cannot investigate on his own: Niflheim.

In the meantime, Noctis and Prompto grow closer and closer still. Gladio continues to train Noctis in a variety of fighting skills; Ignis joins in the lessons, too, knowing he may be called on to protect Noctis without warning. Noctis, having taken a renewed interest in his wolf side and the duties of an alpha, studies both with Ignis and with his own father. Noctis and Prompto graduate from high school.

And then Prompto goes into heat.

* * *

It happens in summer, at least. Noctis has seen the symptoms heralding it for a few days, since they spend almost all their time together: it's weirder when Prompto _doesn't_ want to hang out, and then (when Noctis presses) complains that he's hungry all the time and just wants to eat everything and then curl up somewhere and sleep for a week.

"Bring him to the Citadel," Ignis says, shortly, when Noctis informs him of this behavior. "We can care for him there."

So it is that Prompto's first visit to the royal residence is a bit less formal than anticipated. Actually, Prompto resists every attempt Noctis makes to drag him out of his apartment (his parents being away on a business trip, which makes the ordeal slightly easier). When Noctis can't physically drag Prompto out, he gives up and calls Gladio.

"You can't make me!" Prompto shouts, while Gladio throws Prompto over his shoulder and fireman-carries him out to the waiting car. "I'm calling the authorities! This is kidnapping! I'm being kidnapped! Someone call the police!"

"We're trying to _help_ you, dude," Noctis tells him.

"Also, we are the authorities," Gladio says matter-of-factly.

"In what universe is this help?!" Prompto squirms on Gladio's shoulder, but Gladio's arm is locked around him. He's not going anywhere. Noctis can smell Prompto's fear and anxiety, but it's not as bad as Noctis had thought it might be; underneath it all, Prompto does trust him -- and, by extension, Gladio and Ignis. And once they get into the car, Noctis tugging Prompto into a cuddle in the back seat while Gladio takes shotgun next to Ignis, Prompto calms down a good deal.

It's the smaller space, Noctis thinks, rubbing Prompto's back with one hand -- that and the relaxing scents of sage and sandalwood Ignis keeps in the car's air freshener.

"Why are we going to the Citadel?" Prompto finally asks, subdued and quiet, when they're only a couple of blocks away. 

"Wanted to have a sleepover," Noctis quips. Prompto twists and gives him a glare. "I'll tell you when we get there. I promise."

"Kidnappers," Prompto mutters, but he subsides against Noctis.

* * *

They bypass the front entrance, mostly for Prompto's sake -- he needs to be brought up to the royal apartments quietly and quickly -- and instead go in through a discreet side entrance usually used for servants and deliveries. Prompto's sleepy now, and Gladio carries him in again, this time cradled to his chest, as they go for the closest elevator.

He doesn't have to be told where to take Prompto when they get to the right floor; there are quiet rooms made just for this purpose, and Ignis has already prepared the one closest to Noct's suite. When Gladio opens the door and sets him down, Prompto blinks. The room is small, not much larger than a closet and with a low ceiling (in fact, Gladio has to keep his head down as he steps back or risk hitting his head on it), a soft lamp with a dimmer switch in the corner, and a small fridge stocked with water and sports drinks. It's been carefully cleaned, empty of scents save the ones now rolling off Prompto: interest and curiosity and a heavy exhaustion.

"What is this?" Prompto asks, even as he burrows into the blankets and begins gathering them around himself.

"It's a den," Gladio says. Prompto stares at him, then at Noctis.

"What--" he starts to ask.

Noctis kneels in the door, giving Gladio and Ignis significant glances. With a nod, Ignis draws Gladio away; they move off, leaving Noctis in private with Prompto. "OK," Noct says, and then his mind goes blank.

"I'm about to pass out," Prompto says, "but I can tell something fuckin' strange is happening to me. And you guys are _prepared_ for it? Like, you have a room set up here that's everything I wanted and didn't even know I wanted? Please, Noct. Just tell me."

His voice shakes a little. Noct sits, crossing his legs, and gnaws on his lip only for a moment. "All right, Prom, I'm gonna tell you. But trust me when I tell you you're not gonna believe me." Prompto nods, his eyes worried, and Noctis continues: "I'm a werewolf, Prompto. So's Gladio, and Ignis, and my dad. And so are you."

Promptis looks blankly at Noctis. Disbelief rolls off him in waves. "Sure," he says after a moment, sounding raw and tired. "Sure, why not? Can't be any less likely than anything else in my life. I'm friends with the Prince of Lucis and he's a werewolf and I am too. _Fuck_."

"Magic exists," Noctis says, an eyebrow cocked. "Why shouldn't this?"

"So if that's true," Prompto says, without acknowledging whether he believes Noctis or not, "then you know what's happening to me?"

"Well." Noctis reaches in his back pocket and takes out a small bottle, fine cut glass with a heavy stopper. He opens it and shakes a pill into his hand, though he just leaves it there for a moment. "There's a lot to tell you, and I didn't want it to happen this way, but basically, werewolves have different ranks within the pack. I'm an alpha. So is Gladio. Ignis is a beta, and I... when we first got to be friends, I realized you were an omega."

"An omega." Prompto sounds skeptical, his eyes on the pill in Noctis's hand. "Isn't that, like, the lowest tier? Like, the omega's the runt of the litter and the bottom of the totem pole and stuff?"

"Actually, omegas are--" Noctis tries to remember how Ignis put it. "Omegas are prized in werewolf packs. They hold a pack together, they're adored and cherished. And they tend to have one mate, but things get more complicated in heat."

Prompto swallows hard. Noctis leans over to the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. "Here," he says. "There's sports drinks in there and stuff too, in case you want something more than just water. But this--" He holds out the pill, too. "This is a suppressant. It'll help once you're actually in heat. It sort of... suppresses your natural urges and makes them easier to control."

"I am _not_ taking that," Prompto states, retreating from Noctis once he's taken the water.

Noctis had expected that. He takes out the bottle from his pocket and returns the pill to it. "All right. But for right now, you should get some sleep. We'll be right here if you need anything." He scoots back and pushes himself up, indicating the light switch. "Light's here if you want it lower or off. You OK?"

Prompto takes a drink of the water and nods. He's already curling up in the blankets. As Noct closes the door, he hears Prompto murmur a soft thanks and smiles to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto sleeps for nearly twelve hours, getting up only once to stumble to the nearby restroom and relieve himself. Ignis guides him there and back again. In the large central room of the suite, Noctis crashes on the sofa; Ignis settles next to Gladio once he's ensured Prompto is resting soundly once more, nearly seven hours into the vigil.

"You don't have to stay, you know," Gladio says, his arm falling around Ignis's shoulders. Ignis leans easily into Gladio's warmth.

"Neither do you," he points out.

"Noctis stays, that means I stay. You, on the other hand..."

"Can be a little less intimidating than you alphas, when Prompto wakes up." Ignis adjusts his glasses. "In fact, I'm not sure either of you should be anywhere close at that point."

"Yeah? Have you ever helped an omega through their first heat?" Gladio asks.

"I've done a great deal of research," Ignis replies, prim, and then raises an eyebrow at Gladio. "Why, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah. And despite what all those books say, just 'cause we're wolves doesn't mean we can't control our instincts. I wouldn't lay a finger on Prompto even if he begged for it right now, not while he's not in control of himself." Gladio's gaze tracks over to Noctis, asleep in a sprawl with a throw dragged over him, one foot hanging off the sofa. 

"You're not concerned about how Noctis will react." Ignis looks at Gladio, who doesn't say anything. "Ah. You are, then."

"He's had sex, but never with an omega, in heat or no. It's important he learn how to manage his instincts, and I don't want him fuckin' it up with Prompto. Kid doesn't deserve it."

Ignis isn't sure which 'kid' Gladio is referring to in this case. Probably both of them. He's well aware, after the past few years, just how deep Noctis's affections for Prompto run. "Then we're all here for the duration," he says.

Gladio reaches for the remote control and turns the TV on, though he keeps the volume low so as not to disturb Noct. He presses an absent kiss to Ignis's temple. "I can think of ways to pass the time."

"Mmm. Can you now?"

* * *

Prompto wakes in confusing darkness. He's shivering, even though he's warm -- too warm, really, he's pushing heavy blankets off of him and peeling his shirt off. There's an unnerving slickness between his legs; he can feel it when he moves, and all he can think is that he's soiled himself somehow. He finds the light switch and turns it on, and in the moment while he's temporarily blinded from the sudden brightness, he remembers. He's at the Citadel, in that little room Noct put him in. Blinking, he pushes the door open.

Scent hits him, a compelling musk that seems to pour right into his nose like one of those cheesy Saturday morning cartoons. He could float down the hall on that rich smell. In the next moment, Noctis's words from earlier strike him and he stops, sits down hard.

Noctis said that he -- the Prince of Lucis -- is a werewolf. That Prompto is one as well, and so are Gladio and Ignis. And the King. What does it mean? Why is the alpha and omega stuff important? And does that mean he can... change? 

He finds the water bottle and drinks from it, not caring that it's gone tepid. He still feels slick, but at the same time, now that he's inhaled the smell -- is that the others? What had Noctis said, that he and Gladio were alphas? -- he's also feeling something else, possibly more disturbing: the beginnings of arousal.

Prompto had crushed on Noctis since he'd first seen him, a feeling that had only increased when they actually became friends and started hanging out a couple of years ago. It only seemed to make sense that the prince was surrounded by handsome and talented people -- from the various guards at the Citadel to his closest friends, Gladio and Ignis. Since he'd never expected to have a chance with any of them, he's let himself fantasize freely, sometimes about all three of them with him at the same time...

Noctis had mentioned mating. And heat. That sounds a lot like sex stuff to Prompto, even with his limited experience.

There's a sound of footsteps, and Prompto snaps out of his thoughts as legs appear at the low room's door. "Everything all right in there?" comes Ignis's cultured voice, and a moment later the man kneels, a wrist lazily resting on a knee.

Ignis smells interesting. (If Prompto stopped to think about how he's _smelling_ people now, he'd probably lose his mind completely. So he doesn't.) He has that rich musky scent, but it's tempered somehow. Even so, Prompto leans forward, bracing himself on one hand, fascinated.

"Prompto," Ignis says gently, and Prompto pulls back and stares at Ignis.

"What's happening to me?" he asks, his hands gripping the empty plastic bottle now.

Ignis shakes his head briefly and sits -- much like Noctis did, not quite inside the room, letting Prompto have his space. "I was afraid this would happen," he says. "I wanted this conversation to occur much earlier, but Noctis wouldn't have it. And now we're here."

" _What_ is _happening_ ," Prompto repeats. He can hear his voice shaking pretty badly.

"Prompto." Ignis's voice remains calm, soothing. "Noctis told you we're werewolves, and that includes you, yes? And that you are an omega."

"Don't I get any say in that?" Prompto grits out.

Ignis's smile is sad now. "I wish it were that simple, but no, I'm afraid not. What's going on right now is that you're in the beginning of your heat. This will happen once a month, from now on. It's tied to the full moon." He reveals the contents of his hand: that same glass bottle that Noctis had shown him earlier. "You can take suppressants, which will help relieve some of the symptoms and make it easier to endure."

"I thought only, like, girl dogs and cats and stuff went into heat," Prompto says. His head is swimming; he just wants to latch on to Ignis. The thought of kissing Ignis, pulling him down to the nest of blankets, inflames him and he inhales sharply. Bad idea. Even more of that lust-inducing smell fills his lungs. How is he supposed to think clearly in the middle of this?

"With werewolves, it's different. Female omegas will go into heat to breed. Males do it to unify their pack." Ignis's free hand grips his knee; the knuckles have gone white. _Shit_ , Prompto thinks. Is this affecting _him_ , too? That's kind of amazing.

"Noctis said something about that," he says, to distract himself.

"In your first heat, you probably shouldn't be mating. At least, according to everything I've studied. You might make a decision you'll regret later. Intercourse should be agreed upon before heat starts."

Prompto puts the empty water bottle aside and scoots closer to Ignis without even really noticing what he's doing. "Uh. So that's why you guys brought me here? You're all prepared for this kind of thing."

"Precisely," Ignis says, sounding relieved. "We wanted you to be in a safe place for this. And for every time after. If you wish."

"I wish," Prompto says, and he's close enough now that he can hook his hands around Ignis's shoulders and pull him in for a kiss. It's hard, hungry, and he's licking eagerly into Ignis's mouth before he can even think about it.

Ignis goes with it, at least for a moment, making a needy sound against Prompto's mouth. Then he's pulling back, shaking his head. "Prompto--"

"But I want--" Prompto starts. Ignis scoots back. A wave of cool air wafts between them.

"As do I," Ignis says, throaty-voiced. "And if it's affecting me, you can imagine how it's affecting Gladio and Noctis."

That must be the intense smell he's picking up from down the hall. "They're both here?"

Ignis nods. "But they can control themselves. You won't be touched during this night. And if you want to make it easier on yourself--"

Once again, he offers the pill. Prompto can feel himself shaking a little. He's so hard it hurts, and pressing a hand on his crotch only intensifies the sensation. Ignis's eyes track his movements. " _Gods_ ," Prompto mutters. "Doesn't matter how much I say yes, does it?"

"I've -- I've never been with an omega," Ignis says. His voice trembles. There's power in this, Prompto realizes: he likes that, more than he's ready to admit to himself. "But from what I'm told, your heat brings your instincts to the fore. You may make decisions you'll regret. I don't want that to happen to you, Prompto. You're in a safe place here. We want it to stay that way."

Prompto nods reluctantly. He reaches far enough forward to take the pill, popping it into his mouth and dry-swallowing hard. "How, how long does this -- does this heat last?"

"All night," Ignis says, retreating with clear relief in his eyes. "You'll know when the moon's through its cycle; you'll feel it. For now, feel free to indulge yourself however you can."

Prompto doesn't know what Ignis means until he looks down and realizes that, entirely without noticing, he's rubbing his hand in steady strokes over the bulge in his jeans. He blushes brightly and pulls his hand back. "Iggy," he says. "After this is over, you gotta tell me why I'm all wet and everything. OK?"

"We all will," Ignis says. "We'll explain everything."

Ignis stands and closes the door. In dumb relief, Prompto all but tears his jeans off and falls back to the blankets, one hand on his rock-hard erection and the other on his balls, fingers exploring back further with each stroke of his fist. He still doesn't understand, but he feels loose and open -- and turned on, _so_ fucking turned on. He slips a finger into himself. It goes in smooth and he shudders. He isn't sure if he's more weirded out by the fact that he _isn't_ weirded out, but he's reserving all questions for later. He adds another finger, and another, feeling nothing but tight wet heat grasping at his fingers. It's not enough, he wants so much more, but he jerks himself into a sudden orgasm and forgets everything else in the moment of perfect pleasure.

There's a box of tissues by the mini-fridge, along with wet wipes, and some towels neatly folded there too. They really did think of everything. Prompto cleans himself up, only slightly disconcerted by the fact that he's still hard as if he hadn't just climaxed.

 _Another question for later_ , he tells himself, subsiding into the blankets and panting. Everything smells like him now. This place is his.

* * *

Noctis doesn't know what he expected would happen when Prompto actually woke up in the throes of heat. He'd awoken earlier to Gladio and Ignis making out -- well on the way to more, actually, both of them shirtless and Ignis grinding on Gladio's lap, his fingers raking down Gladio's chest. Gladio mouthed hungrily at Ignis's neck. Noctis shifted to his side and watched them for a while, lazily palming his cock through his jeans, before joining in.

Now, he's still turned on -- it's starting to feel decidedly unpleasant, and if it wasn't for his determination to watch over Prompto and make sure he was all right, he'd think about fleeing the Citadel entirely. Despite the air filters and padding and protection of the den, all three of them can still smell Prompto's arousal, his omega slickness, the wetness that tells them he's ready to be mated. Dampened as it may be, it's still affecting them deeply.

"I don't know if I can take much more of this," Noctis says. Sprawled behind him, Gladio wraps an arm around his waist.

"You're gonna have to," he says, no-nonsense as ever. "If Prompto doesn't want to be mated, or even just fucked while he's in heat, then you respect his feelings. And until the moon goes down, he's not in a position to talk about it clearly."

"I _know_ that," Noctis mutters. "God, you're worse than Iggy."

"Oi," Ignis says, too worn out for more than a token protest.

"He smells so good, though." Noctis doesn't mean to say it, it just sort of slips out. "Like, you smelled him, right?"

"Yeah," Gladio says cautiously. "He smells pretty tempting."

"No, I mean. Not just right now." Noctis slumps on Ignis again, unable to describe it. "Like, all the time. I just sort of want to lick him all over."

Ignis's hand smooths over Noctis's arm and down his back. Over Noctis's head, he shares a look with Gladio. Gladio's nod is brief, and then he bends to start kissing Noctis's neck, his shoulder, hand sweeping down Noctis's thigh. Noctis, easily distracted in this state, shudders between them, pulls himself more over Ignis, and they abandon the conversation with no more thought.

* * *

If this is what heat is like when he's taken a suppressant, Prompto shudders to think what it will be like without.

He's been hard since he woke up, despite jerking off multiple times (he feels _raw_ , like getting off doesn't mean anything anymore, just a cessation of sensation when he comes). When the feeling finally begins to fade, he sinks to his side, curled in the remaining clean blankets (he contained most of the mess in a towel, but damn he came a _lot_ , he's pretty sure he could go the rest of his life without another orgasm), and takes out one of the sports drinks from the fridge to gulp it wearily. There's a few little packets of trail mix type stuff, too, granola and raisins and nuts. 

_As if I'm on a hike and need to keep up my strength._ The thought makes him laugh, weakly.

A knock on the door makes him blink, and he sits up again, dragging a blanket over his lower body. "Yeah?" he calls, even as he's scenting the air -- it's not as powerful, that musky smell, mixed with something (green leaves and earth) that instinctively makes him think of Gladio. 

Sure enough, when the door opens, it's Gladio, hunching down in the opening. "How you doing in there?"

Gladio's taken a shower, Prompto notes: clean whiffs of shampoo and soap, and underlying that, besides the musk and the Gladio-smell, he gets something else: _sex_. Gladio's been having a lot of sex in the past day or so. Prompto doesn't even need to ask who it was with; he gets more of the smell from down the hall, from Ignis and Noctis.

His mouth falls open. Gladio tilts his head, eyebrows up in surprise only for a moment.

"You're picking this stuff up quick, man. Quicker than I thought you would. OK, you want to grab a shower or something to eat?"

"Both," Prompto says in relief. Gladio offers him a hand, and he takes it -- the other hand holding firmly to the blanket around his waist to keep himself decent.

"Noct got some clean clothes from your place, they're in the bathroom for you. Then we can eat and talk about--" Gladio waves his hand in a loose circle. "--all of this. Now that you've got a better idea."

"Mm." Prompto nods, hitching the blanket up as he follows Gladio. "Good, 'cause I have a ton of questions still."

Just before the entrance to the suite's main room, Gladio pushes open a door to a luxurious bathroom and steps back. "There you go. Scrub up and the food'll be ready when you're done."

"What time is it?" Prompto asks, even as he slips around Gladio into the bathroom. He doesn't even think about it when he lets the blanket fall to the smooth tile floor.

"A-around noon," Gladio stutters. A wave of renewed arousal-scent hits Prompto, and he swallows hard. _Maybe this werewolf thing won't be so bad after all_. Nonetheless, he gives Gladio a quick smile and closes the door, sinking against it heavily.

He waits until he hears Gladio's footsteps retreating before he goes to the gigantic shower stall and starts the water going. It's hot, right away, and it feels sinfully good as he steps under the beating spray. There are definitely perks to living in the Citadel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hopefully this won't sound too confusing or dumb

By the time he's clean, Prompto smells bacon and cheese from the suite's main room. He dries off quick, changes (Noctis grabbed his favorite shirt, he's amused to note), and treads barefoot to the wide-open space of the main room.

Here, unsurprisingly, the scent of sex rises strong, but the smell of the BLTs Ignis has put together transcends all, and Prompto makes a beeline for the table by the window, where the others are already seated. 

"It's about time," Noctis says around a mouthful of sandwich. Prompto sits down by him with no trace of a blush, reaching for one of the BLTs on the platter at the center of the table.

"Figured I'd see if you guys could run out of hot water." Prompto accepts the glass of iced tea from Ignis with a nod; sunlight glares off Ignis's glasses and Prompto can't see the man's eyes. Probably just as well.

He finishes off one sandwich in record time, reaches for another. "Man, so _hungry_. Does that happen normally? Is that an omega thing?"

"Could just be your underfed ass," Noctis says, and pokes him in the side. Prompto giggles in spite of himself.

Over the course of lunch, Prompto gets a confusing rundown of werewolf pack dynamics and the roles each rank plays, though Ignis is quick to point out that there's ultimately no right or wrong behavior when it comes to one's rank.

"Alphas are generally overprotective, and one will always be the leader of his pack. Other alphas are subservient to him, and there is a way for the leader to command the others, but a smart alpha doesn't use it if he doesn't have to," he says. Prompto wishes he had a notebook right now.

"And what do betas do?" he asks.

Ignis gives him a wry smile at that. "All the things you see me do. Although my position is unique, as someone in service to the Crown as I am would perform many of those duties regardless."

 _That's right_ , Prompto remembers: Noctis said Ignis was a beta. It sort of makes sense, even if he's read something about wolves and doesn't think they actually sort themselves into ranks like this. But what does he know? He's new to all of this, after all.

"So," he says, taking a long drink of his iced tea, "that's you guys. What cool stuff do I get to do, besides go into a fucking agonizing messy-ass heat every month? Do we get to change into wolves? Is it all tied into the phases of the moon and stuff?"

Noctis laughs, while Gladio sits back, arms folded. "Yes, you can change, but no, you're not doing it right now. We'll get somewhere safe for that. No, it's not tied into the moon. You can change anytime, but it's not advisable to stay in wolf shape for too long. Easy to forget who you are that way."

"The heat is what's brought on by the full moon," Ignis says. Noctis is conspicuously quiet, poking at his phone as if he's not paying attention (though Prompto knows full well he is). "At that point, as you noticed, you'll become lethargic and sleepy for approximately a day beforehand. You might find yourself putting together a nest, or doing a lot of cooking or stocking up on food. When the moon rises next, you..." He trails off, and Prompto watches him, fascinated by the blush creeping up his neck.

"I get turned on," he says. Might as well not bother pussyfooting around it.

"Indeed." Ignis takes a hasty drink from his glass, looking away. Gladio smiles too, amused at the normally-unruffled Ignis's sudden discomfiture. 

"So you kept talking about how a pack, like, treasures its omega. What's all that about?" Prompto asks, when it's clear Ignis doesn't wish to pursue the topic of Prompto's arousal.

"A pack is usually a couple of alphas, a beta or two, and an omega," Noctis says now. He leans back in his chair to watch Prompto. "I, uh, I'm the alpha for us. Kings of Lucis usually are. But we're just sort of... I mean. We're not a true pack right now." His eyes flash to Ignis and Gladio, then back to Prompto, and suddenly, far too late, Prompto gets it.

"Y-you want me to be your omega," he says. He's actually a little more horrified by the fact that the idea doesn't immediately send him screaming into the streets.

To his gratification, at least Noctis is blushing a little bit too. "It's weird to say it out loud, but yeah," Noctis says. "I mean, I've had a feeling you were omega for a while now, but we couldn't confirm it until this happened. And you -- I." Noctis looks distinctly uncomfortable now, but it's clear Ignis and Gladio aren't going to let him off the hook now, not from the way they're sitting back and watching. Prompto's heart thuds painfully in his chest. "I've wanted you for a long time, I didn't know why. Now I do."

"Noctis," Ignis says suddenly, an almost scolding tone. "Tell him the rest."

"What? What rest?" A brief frisson of fear skims through Prompto, despite the warmth of the new knowledge that Noctis wants him.

Nocis fidgets for a long moment. "It isn't just about fucking," Gladio says, at last, and Noctis glares at him.

"You know what, maybe we don't need to do this with everyone here," Noctis says suddenly, defensive. Prompto swallows the urge to retreat; fortunately, Ignis pushes his chair back and stands, reaching for Gladio's shoulder.

"Come on, Gladio," Ignis says. "Let them talk."

Gladio doesn't seem thrilled, but he gets up at Ignis's urging, and the two of them disappear into one of the side rooms -- Noct's bedroom, maybe. Once the door's closed behind them, Prompto turns in his seat to look more directly at Noctis.

"All right, it's you and me," he says. "Spill the beans. I'm not gonna get held down and gang-raped, am I?"

"What?" Noctis goes pale at that. "Gods, no! No, nothing like that." He's visibly relaxed now that Ignis and Gladio are out of the room, and he stretches an arm along the edge of the table until his fingertips touch the side of Prompto's hand. Prompto inhales at the touch, like electricity arcing through his veins. "No," Noctis says. "It's that -- I mean. I want you, but not... not just as an omega. As a mate."

"A mate," Prompto repeats, tilting his head. "Like." He tries to think of a metaphor and can't. "Like... a boyfriend?" he manages at last.

Noctis's smile is a relief, even if there is a little bit of that 'Prompto-you-dumbass' in it. "Well, sort of? Except it's... you'd be mine. Wolves, uh, wolves mate for life. You'd be the pack's omega, if you wanted, but that'd only really matter during heat."

The phrase 'wolves mate for life' is still rattling around in Prompto's head, the distraction made worse by the heat of Noctis's fingers on his hand. "This is kinda startin' to sound like a proposal, dude," he says.

Noct's eyes dim a little, head ducking briefly as he looks up at Prompto. "I guess it is. I know everything's happening pretty fast here, and I'm -- I'm sorry for that. I was sort of hoping we'd have time to talk about all of this."

Prompto chews on the inside of his lip for a moment, his eyes on their hands, where Noctis's fingers are now tracing absent circles along his knuckles. "Look," he says finally. "And this isn't a rejection. But this is a _fuck_ of a lot to throw at me, OK? Noct." Noctis's eyes have dropped again, and Prompto has to repeat Noctis's name before the prince looks up at him again. "Can I. I need to think about this, all right? I mean, in the last twenty-four hours I find out I'm a werewolf, that I'll go into heat every month, that I can _change_ into a wolf. And now that you want to be my mate and make me part of your pack? Does that involve sleepin' with Ignis and Gladio too?"

His tone is even, as calm as he can make it despite his internal freaking-out. Noctis nods slowly, pushes his hair out of his eyes. "I mean, it's part of the pack dynamic. It doesn't _have_ to-- Look, here's the thing," Noct says, and straightens a little, resting his wrists on his knees. "A lot of wolves, they're all about instinct. They just follow what their gut tells 'em to do. And that can mean people get hurt, or raped, or even killed because they either didn't know what they were doing, or they did know or didn't care. We -- at least the line of Lucis and our packs -- we do our best to make sure we _don't_ act that way. We're thinking beings, we can control our instincts. That's why I'm telling you all this. We'd never hurt you, Prompto, not _ever_. If you wanted any one of us and only that person, that'd be fine. The others wouldn't argue it, 'cause it's _your_ choice. OK?"

Prompto swallows and nods. He has no reason not to believe Noctis, his best and closest friend; he already knew he'd trust Noctis with his life, his body, or any other part of him. "OK," he says softly, and reaches for Noctis's hand to take and hold it. Their fingers thread together; Noctis smiles a little. It's easy as breathing now to lean in and kiss Noctis.

It's not rough and urgent, like it might have been just a few hours ago (or like it was with Ignis, Prompto thinks). Noctis is sweet, his mouth opening just a little, kissing Prompto back with warmth and tenderness. His free hand comes up to curve at the back of Prompto's head, and Prompto sighs into the kiss.

"I want you," Prompto says quietly, after, his forehead resting against Noct's and his eyes closed. "Kind of a lot. And I'm not rulin' out the other stuff just yet, either, OK? But I really gotta think about all of this."

"OK," Noctis says. "I understand. I'm sorry we threw all this at you at once." He pulls back a little, brushing some stray hairs away from Prompto's forehead.

"Wish I coulda taken notes," Prompto says, smiling wryly.

"I'll have Ignis send you some stuff to read." Noctis grins at that, and Prompto flops back in his chair with a mock groan.

"Not more homework!"

* * *

As it turns out, the material Ignis sends over is actually helpful, and Prompto finds himself reading a good amount of it. Now that he's over the disbelief factor, he wants to know everything about this new aspect of his life. Over the next week, in between shifts at his part-time job, he spends time taking notes and thinking a lot about the implications of all of it.

He's careful to hide it all from his parents, not wanting them to even think about what their reaction would be. This stuff is genetically inherited, and he doubts they know about it -- and if they do, he doesn't want to know. He isn't prepared for the implications of that.

Noct backs off, but, Prompto is relieved to note, he doesn't disappear either. He texts Prompto like usual, and they have a few late-night duels in King's Knight; Gladio joins in once or twice, which adds a new level of strategy to the game. He doesn't talk with Gladio or Ignis much regularly, so it's a surprise -- a nice one -- when Ignis sends him a link to some photography website Prompto hasn't heard of, or offers commentary on some of the pictures Prompto posts online. 

They still want him around. Even if he doesn't want to do anything remotely sexual with them. It's an unexpected, warm feeling.

Of course he _does_ want to do something sexual with them. More like everything, really. The literature Ignis sent him reads like a biology textbook, but Prompto can read between the lines. During heat, an omega who so chooses will usually be mated (so politely, they put it) by the entire pack, repeatedly, over the course of the night. It's a bonding experience, according to the text. Prompto thinks a better name for it is group sex, or maybe an orgy. 

Still, even the _thought_ of being used by all three of them is enough to practically make him cream his jeans. He can't let himself think about it unless he's alone, with his bedroom door locked, afraid he might just explode from the sheer hotness of the idea. When he remembers the torture of being curled up in the den room, wet and slick and helpless to do anything about it -- then imagining if the others _had_ done something about it -- he barely gets his underwear down before he comes all over himself.

That seems to pretty much settle the question.

The other part of the equation -- whether he wants to be Noctis's mate -- fast becomes the thing he's most reluctant to think about. He wants Noct, of course; that's a given, a big fat duh. Noct is his best friend without question; he already knows he never wants a life without Noct in it. Is that really so different from being mated? (He assumes that mating in this sense is like marriage, without the ceremony. Probably sealed with sex.)

Eventually he decides he needs to know _why_ Noct has already decided he wants Prompto for his mate. It's flattering, sure, especially given Noct is the future king of Lucis and Prompto's a commoner with an unknown past.

The fact that he's already pretty much made up his mind: well, he's trying not to think about that.

* * *

Noct agrees to meet him the next day at their favorite comic book store. (It's new comic day anyway, so Prompto knows Noct would be there regardless.) Prompto's standing at the new issue wall when he feels a presence beside him, a hand resting on his lower back. His stomach drops as if he's gone suddenly weightless. He only gives Noct a little smile, though, bumping his shoulder against Noct's.

"Hi," he murmurs.

"Hi yourself," Noct says. "Come here often?" 

Prompto stifles a laugh. "You are _so_ cheesy." Noct's arm slides around his waist and he leans comfortably into the warm embrace. "And no. I'm not hot on getting arrested for public indecency."

"How about some private indecency?" Noct practically purrs in Prompto's ear. Prompto would argue that Noct could be acting a little pushy, except that he knows his own scent is full of eager acceptance. There's not much lying about one's feelings around other werewolves. Noct's scent is full of desire and want, but Prompto feels no fear.

"Let's get out of here," he grins.

* * *

Noctis kisses him for the first time in the elevator.

Prompto felt absurdly nervous right up to that moment. Noctis hit the button for his floor, the doors closed; before Prompto could even lean back against the wall, Noct's moved into his space, one hand curving at Prompto's waist. "Can I," Noctis breathes. Prompto answers by tilting his head up just a fraction, just enough to make it blatantly clear that he's giving permission. Noctis's smile, as he tips his head and meets Prompto's mouth, is brighter than the sun.

They break apart like guilty kids when the elevator stops and the doors open, even though no one's there. Grinning, clutching the bag with his purchases in one hand, Prompto follows Noct down the hall and to the apartment. Inside, they kick off their shoes in the entryway, and Noct turns to Prompto, reaching almost shyly for his hand.

Prompto drops the bag of comics on the shelves by the door and takes the offered hand. "This is really happening," he says, as if he still can't quite believe it.

"You're sure?" Noct says. "We don't have to."

"I want this like you don't even _know_ ," Prompto says, and Noct laughs as he tugs Prompto close for another kiss. They stumble backwards -- well, Noct goes backward, Prompto makes a half-assed attempt to guide him -- through the open space of the apartment's living room and kitchen, and into a hallway. Here, Prompto has to stop; he's never gone further than the bathroom before, never had need to.

Noctis takes over, fortunately, his hand still firmly grasping Prompto's as he leads him to the furthest door. "Bedrooms," he says. "One room's for everyone, the other's mine."

"So, like, you and Iggy and Gladio sleep together a lot?" Prompto can't help but ask. 

"Well. Yeah, I mean -- does it bother you?" Noct turns to watch him as he pushes open the door to his room.

Prompto shakes his head. "Nah. I mean, I thought it would, and maybe it should? But I. When I thought about it, all I could think was it was hot. Especially the idea of bein' in the middle of all three of you." He feels himself going red and ducks his head.

"We talked about it too," Noctis says, and his voice has gone lower, rough with a tone Prompto's never heard in it before. He draws close to Prompto, his hands coming up to rest on either side of Prompto's neck, slipping around to his back. "How we all wanted to take you, one by one, get you off, feel how good you'd be. We'd take _such_ good care of you."

"Please," and Prompto feels himself shudder, hears a whimper escape. "Noct."

"But you're mine," Noctis says. "Before any of that, you're _mine_ ," and his fingers lift Prompto's chin so their mouths can meet again. The kiss is anything but sweet now; Noctis bites at Prompto's lower lip, his tongue surging into Prompto's mouth, hands grasping at Prompto's back and ass to pull them hard together. Prompto lets out a shivery moan. "Gods, Prompto, I wanted you for so long and now you're here and I--"

"You what," Prompto pants. When Noctis pulls away he feels lost, dazed; he seeks after Noctis, kissing him again, his hands finding purchase in Noctis's hair.

"I'm getting ahead of myself," Noctis says. He's panting, too, already hard -- Prompto can feel it, heat that matches his own -- and color rides high in his cheeks. "I just can't believe this is finally happening."

Prompto's laugh is raw. " _You_ can't believe it," he says. When Noct steps back toward the bed, Prompto follows, helpless, the moth to Noctis's flame.

He's not sure what he expected, but he doesn't think it's this: gentle kissing while they lay together on Noctis's bed, one of Noct's hands idly tracing patterns over his back (over his shirt, no less), his knee absently nudged between Noctis's. He's not a complete novice in sexual matters, but all the werewolf stuff had him picturing everything rough and hard and fast. (Not that there was anything wrong with that, either, oh no.) But Noct is patient. Or maybe he just wants to drive Prompto insane before they even get their clothes off.

It's working, at any rate. Prompto's already feeling that slippery wetness between his legs by the time Noctis finally peels his t-shirt off. He squirms a little as he shifts to let Noct strip him.

"I can smell how turned on you are," Noctis murmurs, his breath hot against Prompto's mouth.

"Yeah, can we, that part's still kinda freaking me out," Prompto says. 

"The smell? Or the--" Noctis's hand slides around to Prompto's ass, squeezing. Fireworks go off in Prompto's brain and it takes him a few moments to formulate a response.

"How about both?" he says, managing a weak laugh. "But the, uh. The wet, I guess. That never happened to me before all this."

Noctis's fingers slip just inside the waistband of Prompto's jeans, warm against bare skin. "Happens with omegas," he murmurs. "Probably only once you start going into heat, I guess."

"Probably," Prompto agrees, and gives up attempting to talk in favor of kissing Noctis again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all aboard the smut train, choo choo

It's all going great until Noctis starts unbuttoning Prompto's jeans. Apparently that's the time Prompto's brain decides it's time for him to freak out and grab at Noctis's hands, which have already been halfway down the back of his pants and over his cock through the fabric. 

"S-stop," he gasps. Noctis, to his credit, does. He gently draws his hands back, pushing up a bit: he's braced over Prompto on one elbow, all but covering him, knee firm between Prompto's.

"OK," Noctis says. "OK, we don't have to." He lets himself down to rest next to Prompto instead, and Prompto lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

"Fuck, man, I _want_ to," Prompto mutters. "I'm just. It's my first time, you know? Being naked in front of someone, and it's _you_ , and. God. I wish I'd gotten drunk or something."

"Yeah, that isn't happening." Noct brings his hand up to curve along Prompto's cheek. "Besides the minor fact that we're both, y'know. Minors."

Prompto laughs at that. "Minor minors." He's catching his breath again, feeling daring enough to slide his own fingers down over Noctis's chest, hooking his thumb in a beltloop. "At least we don't work in a mine, then we'd be minor miners. Wait. That doesn't sound any different."

"Forget about the stand-up comedy, stick to the photography," Noctis says, though he's chuckling as he kisses Prompto again. "Seriously, though, I mean. I want this just as bad as you, but it still doesn't mean we don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I keep having to remind myself you just found out about all of this last week."

"Well, yeah." Prompto sits up, bringing his knees up, one hand on the bed so he's still watching Noctis. "And the thing about you asking me to be your mate. That's still pinging around in my head, too."

Noctis has the grace to look guilty, at least. "Guess I could have held off on that," he admits. "I'm sorry."

"No, I mean. Fuck." Prompto laughs a little. "I'm _flattered_ , OK? Not every day a guy has a prince wanting him to be his... his mate. I gotta ask, though," he says, and Noctis looks up at him, the hair shifting before his eyes. Prompto reaches tenderly to brush the locks back so that he can see more of Noctis's face. "Is it because of the omega thing?"

Noctis inhales. Prompto can see him struggling with the words. "A little bit?" he says at last, and Prompto feels something go tight in his chest. "At first, anyway. I mean, with wolves, it's. You know we talked about the instinct stuff. And the first time I scented you and realized what you were, it was like this voice inside me telling me that you were mine. And it was scary."

Prompto blinks at that, tilting his head. "Really?"

"Oh, man, yeah." Noctis rolls to his back, talking more to the ceiling now. Prompto can't think of many other moments when he's seen Noctis this vulnerable, this open. "Like, I've always known my future was laid out for me. Being the King, protecting Lucis, all of that. And with the wolf side of my life, too: I'd start a pack, find a mate, carry on the line of Lucis. But it all felt like... far off. Then when I met you, it all hit me at once." Noctis shifts a little to look at Prompto now. "And I've had a few years to accept it, but you haven't had that time, and it was wrong of me to ask so fast."

"Oh," Prompto says softly. He gnaws his lip, his eyes tracing the lean lines of Noctis, his spread arms and the soft hair fanned across the bedspread. 

"And then I ended up falling in love with you anyway," Noctis says, and sits up. His smile is wry now, even a little apologetic. "And that had nothing to do with the wolf stuff at all."

Prompto blinks at Noctis, wondering if he's gone deaf. That would explain the strange rushing in his ears. "You-- you're in love with--?" he blurts out.

Noctis's eyes go wide, as if he himself hadn't realized what he was saying. His face is red now, but he manages to nod somehow. "Yeah," he says. "Don't fuckin' make me repeat myself, you big jerk."

The only thing Prompto can think to do is launch himself onto Noctis, so that's what he does, laughing. Splayed half across the future king of Lucis, he peppers Noctis's face with kisses until they're both half-breathless from laughter.

* * *

The mood isn't ruined, as Prompto feared it might be. It's shifted, instead: he feels more comfortable in the knowledge that Noctis wants him because of _him_ , not because of some dumb quirk of wolf genetics that made them compatible. When he settles himself over Noctis, their bodies lined up together, they both groan; Noctis's hardness matches his own, and Prompto grinds shamelessly into that heat, wanting more.

This time, when Noctis rolls them over and goes for Prompto's jeans -- eyes on his, watching to make sure it's all right -- Prompto lets him. One hand on Noctis's shoulder and the other flung wide, he nods and then loses all ability to think as Noctis undoes the fly, tugs down on his briefs, reveals him in helpless arousal. His cock jerks when Noctis runs his fingers lightly up the underside.

"Let me," Noctis says. Prompto's pretty sure he'd let Noctis do anything to him; he nods, overwhelmed by Noctis's scent (yearning, hungry, needy), and lifts his hips so that Noctis can tug his jeans and underwear down. They end up hooked on an ankle as Noctis's attention shifts back to Prompto. "So hot," he mutters, and while Prompto's thinking that Noctis can't be talking about him, Noctis's hand closes on Prompto's cock.

It's like a circuit closing. Prompto moans, pushes into the welcome tight fist on him. When he blinks at Noctis, Noct grins wolflike at him and Prompto's heart jumps and stutters in his chest. Noct's free hand rubs Prompto's thigh, slides between his legs. _At last_ , Prompto thinks without even knowing why, and eagerly spreads his thighs for Noctis.

Somewhere along the line, he stopped caring about the slickness that shouldn't have been there; it just is, now, a part of him, and all he feels is empty and desperate to be filled. The first press of Noctis's fingers -- exploring, just pressing at his entrance -- makes him groan, and he nods as if answering a question. "Yeah, gods, _please_ \--"

The first slide is heavenly, especially combined with the sensation of Noctis's fist on his cock. Prompto slits his dazed eyes open to watch, sees the amazement on Noctis's face. "Don't stop," he hears himself beg, his voice thready.

Noct gives a brief, astonished laugh and pushes deeper. Prompto shouts: pleasure shoots through him. "More," he pleads, and there's a second finger, a third, moving slippery in him, _oh gods how is this possible--_ and he's coming, suddenly, making a mess all over himself.

Noct's nostrils flare; his eyes go black. " _Fuck_ , that's hot," he says, and bends to mouth at Prompto's belly, licking up the semen spattered almost up to his throat. Still panting, Prompto blinks dazedly at the ceiling. It's too much, too erotic to see Noct doing this; even though it seems impossible, Prompto's turned on all over again just at the _thought_.

"I gotta," Noct says against Prompto's throat. He licks there, nips at the spot where Prompto's neck meets his shoulder; then, while Prompto's still shaking from that, he rises over him again, a hand curved at the back of Prompto's head. "Prom, gods, I want you so bad, please, can I--"

"Fuck me," Prompto says, and pulls Noct down hard against him. It hurts a little -- rough denim on his sensitive cock -- but he doesn't care, just hooks a leg over Noct's. "I know you can tell just how much I want it, Noct, come on, give me that big alpha cock."

Any other time, he'd have been embarrassed beyond belief to hear himself saying something like that. Right now, it's exactly what they both need. Noct trembles against Prompto, and then he's pulling back, shedding his jeans like they're burning him alive.

One of the things that stuck in Prompto's head, out of all the reading material Ignis had sent over, was that alphas were -- 'generously endowed', someone had carefully euphemised -- when mating with an omega. If anything, that was an understatement. Or maybe it's just that Prompto has so little experience with other guys. Either way, Noctis's cock is enormous, jutting out dark and red from a nest of wiry black hair, a sheen of pre-come already coating the wide head.

"Fucking hells," Prompto blurts, and Noctis manages a weak, self-conscious laugh, palming it against his belly.

"I, uh," he starts to say. Before he can lose the nerve, Prompto reaches for Noct to pull him down again.

"Just fucking give it to me," he says into Noct's ear.

Noct makes a sound like a growl, rippling and low, and turns his head to kiss Prompto again. His tongue plunges hard into Prompto's mouth, possessive, rough, and Prompto moans even as he feels Noct's hand between them, getting himself lined up; Prompto spreads his legs wider in unconscious demand.

The first thrust feels like coming home. It's everything he wants: finally being filled, being full after feeling achingly empty for so long. Noctis is over him, in him, eyes shining in disbelief and pleasure, and Prompto curls his legs around Noctis's waist and pushes up to try and kiss him.

It's impossible. It shouldn't feel this right, this good, this _real_ , as if nothing else in his life was ever as tangible as this moment right now. But Noctis drives deep in him and seats himself, and Prompto's cock jerks hard between them, and there's something, the rich smell of Noctis's arousal and relief, something that just allows Prompto to give in and let Noctis take him over. 

"Good?" Noctis pants, even though he knows the answer.

Prompto nods, weakly, his fingers gripping in Noctis's hair. "You don't even--" But then Noctis works his hand between them and grasps Prompto's dick again and that's it, Prompto's past even the ability to talk.

It's nothing like that night in the den when he was in heat and unable to help himself. It's everything like that. He comes, gushing on himself for a second time, and all he can feel is glad that he's got Noctis's scent all over him, that he's got Noctis's alpha cock fucking him into grateful oblivion. Noct doesn't stop when Prompto comes, even though he's sensitive and keening and gasping for air; he just keeps pumping, his head down now, fists on either side of Prompto, rocking harder and harder into him. Prompto comes again, impossibly, feeling raw and slick and bound to Noctis, his hole stretched, his ass aching and still needy.

"Please," he mewls. "I can't, oh God--"

"Almost, almost," Noct growls, and his mouth finds Prompto's shoulder. Prompto vaguely remembers what happens when the alpha climaxes, but it's still a shock when he feels it, he _feels_ Noct coming, Noct's cock pulsing, heat filling Prompto: come, so much come, wave after wave of it, pouring into him with every spasm of Noct's powerful erection.

Even as Noct sinks down on Prompto, shuddering, his eyes blown and dazed from the intensity of the orgasm, he's still hard. The stretching and swelling grows even greater now, making Prompto whimper and twitch where they're joined, Noct still pressed into him: _oh shit_ , Prompto realizes.

"Yeah," Noct murmurs, raspy, picking up Prompto's surprise. "That's the knot. Is it OK? Too much?"

It feels like too much, but Prompto doesn't want to stop. "It's -- it's a lot," he says, one arm wrapping around Noct, the other reaching down to try and feel where they're connected, where his rim grips tight around the swollen knot at the base of Noct's cock. "God, you're still--"

Noct nods again, inhaling hard, letting his breath out slow. "Give me a minute here. _Fuck_ , it never feels like this with the others," and he sounds amazed, too. Prompto's world tilts again. This is something he can give Noct that no one else can. He wiggles a little and Noct gasps; his rim works against the knot in a whole new sensual way, sending shivers of pleasure all through him.

"Fuck!" Noct moans, and he pushes back in instinctive response. The swollen knot rubs every nerve in Prompto's ass, it feels like, and when Noct moves, he shakes all over. Noct pulls back, hard enough to free himself from Prompto, then punches back in again. Pain explodes into sheer pleasure as the knot works past Prompto's abused rim and Noct buries himself once more.

"Killing me," Prompto gasps. "Gods, Noct."

"Too much?" Noct's mouth is rough against Prompto's throat, his voice rough, savage with heat and emotion. Prompto tips his head back farther in helpless submission. "Not letting you go, Prom, doesn't matter if it's too much now. You're mine, this is what it means when I tell you you're mine." He pulls back once more -- Prompto shouts, raw -- and shoves in again. This time, he can't pull back; Prompto's grip on him is too tight. They're locked together.

"Yours." Prompto's voice is weak. "Yours." He means it. He doesn't want anything else, not ever. To be held and filled by Noct like this, taken, made to feel everything: it's all he wanted in his life.

Satisfied, Noctis sinks a little and settles them on their sides. He draws a hand over Prompto's ass and along his thigh, urging Prompto to hitch his leg high over Noct's hip. "Yeah," he breathes. "Mine."

"And you're mine," Prompto says, equally ragged. "My alpha. My _mate_."

He feels the shudder that wracks Noct's body when he says that. It's mind-blowing. Noct's pulse throbs inside Prompto, against his rim. He buries his face in Noct's neck, breathes in the scent of Noct, all metal and crystal and something cold and fine as snow. Noct begins to move in him again, steady little presses that grind him to Prompto, slow and hot and sweet. Trapped between them, Prompto's still-hard cock begins to twitch yet again.

"How is this happening," he whispers against Noct's clavicle.

Noct offers a low laugh, presses kisses into Prompto's sweat-damp hair. "It's not always like this," he says. "But for you and me, right now, this. This is a mating, and this is what happens."

He gets it, at long last, what Gladio and Ignis were talking about. Fucking as opposed to mating. He's bound to Noctis now, physically and emotionally and every other way he can think of. Prompto breathes out and nods, mouths absent kisses to Noctis's skin and humps his hips to get more of Noctis in him. As if that's possible. 

"Good," he murmurs, in a delayed response. Noct's low laugh stirs all through him.

* * *

Noct comes once more, this time a slow, languid orgasm as the knot subsides at last. His come is a trickle now, as if he's finally emptied out, and Prompto whimpers when he slides out. (He's come at least twice more, while Noct whispered filthy things in his ear about how he's going to go insane when Gladio does this to him, how all three of their cocks might not even be enough for him when the next full moon comes around. Raw and shivering, Prompto still wants it like breathing, like air.)

Prompto never thought it was possible to feel this spent, but when Noctis eases from him, he sprawls wide-eagled on the bed and just shivers for a bit. As empty as he feels, the thought of having Noct in him again makes him whine. He clenches his sore ass instinctively, feeling heavy and full of come.

"Just stay there a minute," Noct says, and pushes himself up with a groan. He's got a couple of towels and some water by the bed, and once Prompto's drunk at least half a bottle of water, Noct gets him up and helps him into the bathroom. They shower briefly -- Prompto feels too heavy to stand, so it's fortunate Noct is there to prop him up -- and then it's back to the bedroom, where Noct peels away the sheets now utterly ruined by their mating. Once he's put a new fitted sheet on, Prompto gives in to the need to collapse.

"Too good to me," he mutters as Noct draws the duvet up over them. Noct fits himself behind Prompto, warm and encompassing. Prompto closes his eyes and lets himself sink into the feeling of utter rightness, of being home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end but not really, because obviously there's going to have to be more of this. Rest assured (unless another idea takes over my pathetic brain) that we'll see Prompto's first heat with his pack, more of Dad!Alpha!Regis, and whatever else I can throw into this thing. We're not done yet.


End file.
